Giorgio Faletti - I'm God

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I'm God: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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A serial killer holds New York in his grip. He does not choose his victims. Nor does he watch them die. But then there are too many of them for that. The explosion of a twenty-two storey building, followed by the casual discovery of a letter, lead the police to face up to a dreadful reality: some of New York's buildings were mined at the time of their construction. But which ones? And how many? A young female detective hiding her personal demons behind a tough appearance, and a former press photographer with a past he'd rather forget, and for which he still seeks forgiveness, are the only hope of stopping this psychopath. A man who does not even claim responsibility for his actions. A man who believes himself to be God. Praise for the Giorgio Faletti: "In my neck of the woods, people like Faletti are called larger than life, living legends". (Jeffery Deaver). "Publishing sensation". ("Financial Times"). "I Kill is one of those bestsellers that proceeds at a cracking pace and presses all the right buttons with clinical efficiency. Giorgio Faletti's thriller is set in Monte Carlo, home to so many obnoxious millionaires and their trophy girlfriends that what the city really needs is a serial killer. Enter just such a killer… The writing has no great literary pretentions, but then it does not have to. The plot is the thing". ("Sunday Telegraph). "The best selling first novel by Giorgio Faletti…has been defined as a masterpiece and Faletti himself as the best living Italian writer." (Corriere della Sera).

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‘What’s the matter, Vunny? Is something wrong?’

‘Nothing, darling. A few problems at work. You know what those rascals are like, they just don’t like getting arrested.’

She had deliberately used the word rascals because it was a word that had always made Sundance laugh when she was little. But in spite of Vivien’s attempts to downplay things, her niece hadn’t been completely convinced, and for the rest of lunch she had continued looking at her, aware of her grim expression and watery eyes.

Before leaving, she had taken Father McKean aside and told him that Sundance’s mother was getting worse, and that once she left there she would go up to Cresskill, to the clinic. They agreed that he would put up a notice in church that afternoon, announcing an unscheduled confession for Thursday: he would be in the confessional from early the following afternoon. If the man did not show up then, they would speak again on the phone on Friday, the day when he usually heard confession at the church of Saint John the Baptist in Manhattan, and work out a new plan of action.

During the journey, Vivien confronted the hardest test. She had to talk to Bellew and get as much as she could from him without giving anything away. She hoped that the esteem her chief had for her was great enough to allow her what she asked.

The captain picked up after the second ring. His voice sounded tired. ‘Bellew.’

‘Hi, Alan, it’s Vivien.’

‘Did you go to Williamsburg?’

Frank and direct as always. Now with an added anxiety that wouldn’t take much to turn to neurosis.

‘Yes. But I didn’t get anything from the apartment. Our fake Wendell Johnson really was like a phantom, even at home.’

The captain didn’t need to curse. His silence was eloquent enough.

‘But I have another lead,’ Vivien went on, ‘and I think this is the big one, if we’re lucky.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I think it’ll get us the man who’s detonating the bombs.’

An incredulous voice in her ear. ‘Do you mean that? How did you find it?’

‘Alan, you have to trust me on this. I can’t tell you anything else.’

The captain changed the subject. Vivian knew him well. She knew it was only to give him time to think.

‘Is Wade still with you?’

If he had expected to hear a greeting from Russell over the speakerphone, Vivien’s reply took him by surprise. ‘No, he decided to give up.’

‘Are you sure he won’t say anything?’

‘Yes.’

I’m not sure of anything, when it comes to that man. More than that, he’s not sure about me any more

But now wasn’t the time to talk about him, let alone think about him. The captain had taken Russell’s bowing out as a good sign. And his batteries seemed newly recharged at the thought of an impending arrest.

‘So what do I have to do? Above all, what do you want to do?’

‘You have to put the police in the Bronx on alert. They need to be ready on a coded wavelength from two o’clock tomorrow afternoon, waiting for my orders.’

The captain’s reply was blunt. ‘You know a request like that is a one-way ticket, don’t you? The commissioner’s on my back, and I can’t get him off. If we move on this and don’t get a result, I’m going to have a lot of explaining to do. And heads are sure to roll. Our heads.’

‘I’m aware of that. But it’s the only thing we can do. The only chance we have to stop him.’

‘All right. I hope you know what you’re doing.’

‘So do I. Thanks, Alan.’

The captain hung up and she was alone.

And now she was returning to New York with a presence in the car that would gradually fade with time.

She crossed the George Washington Bridge and drove on until she got to Webster Avenue. Here she turned left, heading for Laconia Street, where the 47th Precinct was situated. She parked her car outside the building. All around her uniformed officers sat in their cars, waiting. As soon as she got out of the Volvo, the glass-fronted door of the precinct house opened and the captain came out with a man she didn’t know in plain clothes. She and Bellew had agreed to meet here the previous evening, when she had called him before turning off-

The telephone, dammit.

It hadn’t been on since then. She hadn’t wanted it to ring while she was in the clinic. She knew she wouldn’t get any important calls during the night. If anything happened, it would happen the following day. She had wanted to be alone with her sister, isolated from the rest of the world, for what had in fact turned out to be their last night together. And this morning, overwhelmed by Greta’s death, she had forgotten to turn it on when she left Cresskill. She searched in the pockets of her jacket and took it out. She frantically turned it on, hoping there hadn’t been any calls. Her hope was short lived. A number of messages about missed calls came up.

Russell .

Later, I don’t have time now.

Sundance .

Later, sweetie. I don’t know what to say right now, or how to say it.

Bellew .

Holy Christ, why didn’t I switch on this damned phone?

Father McKean .

Damn. Damn. Damn.

The call from Father McKean had come at noon. Vivien looked at her watch. 2.15. She didn’t know the reason for that call, but there was no way she could call him back: he must be in the confessional by now. If he had a penitent with him and the cellphone rang, it could be quite embarrassing. And if by some twist of fate the man they were chasing was already there, he was bound to get suspicious.

In the meantime Bellew and the other man had joined her in the parking lot. He was a fleshy man, and his physique could hardly be described as athletic, but the way he moved demonstrated that he was strong and agile.

‘Vivien,’ the captain said, ‘where have you been hiding yourself?’ Then he saw the expression on her face and his tone changed abruptly. ‘I’m sorry. How’s your sister?’

Vivien said nothing, hoping Doctor Savine’s pill would help her, not only to stay awake, but also to hold back her tears. Her unsaid words were clearer than any speech.

Bellew put his hand on her shoulder. ‘I’m sorry. I really am.’

Vivien pulled herself together. She noticed the other man’s embarrassment. He had realized that something unpleasant had happened, that much was obvious, but he had no idea how to react to it. Vivien removed the awkwardness by holding out her hand.

‘Detective Vivien Light. Thank you for your help.’

‘Commander William Codner. It’s a pleasure. I hope-’

Vivien would never know what Codner hoped, because at that moment the cellphone she was still clutching in her hand started ringing. The screen lit up, and there was Father McKean’s name on the display. Vivien felt heat rise in a wave from her stomach and spread all over her body. She replied immediately, then covered the microphone of the cellphone with her finger.

She looked up at the two men. ‘We’re on.’

Codner made a gesture with his hand and the cars started heading out. One came towards them and Vivien got in the front seat next to the driver. Bellew and Codner took their places in the back.

‘Boys, the game has started. You have the ball, Vivien.’

‘Just a minute.’

A voice she didn’t know, a calm, deep voice. ‘… and as you see, I kept my promise .’

Then Father McKean’s reply. ‘ But at what a price! How many lives did that madness cost?

Vivien moved the telephone away from her ear slightly. She grabbed the radio and gave instructions to the listening cars.

‘Calling all cars. This is Detective Light. Converge on the Country Club area. Isolate the block between Tremont, Barkley, Logan and Bruckner Boulevard. I want a cordon of cars and officers keeping an eye on anyone leaving the area in a car or on foot.’

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